Glimpses Of Tap Out
by Left Eye Better
Summary: Small looks into the life of one iron willed Minibot. Sections will be in chronological order, and individually rated at the top, with warnings.
1. Silicon Sand

Title/Prompt: Silicon Sand

Writer: Left_eye_better

Rating: M

Characters: Tap-Out, Gutcruncher, Misc unnamed Autobots, and a stadium of unnamed Decepticons

Summary: Tap-Out always tends to choose the Do option when presented with Do or Die. Just don't be surprised if he bites.

Prompt: Tap-Out/Gutcruncher- Even on my knees, I'm still better than you

Warning: sticky, oral noncon, mechgore, dark, not overly descriptive and ends quickly

Word Count: 1664

Beta'd by: lj user darkesong

**Disclaimer**: _Transformers_ © Hasbro/Takara.

Author's Note: Next Section forward will have a different Beta, and each section will be individually rated.

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Tap-Out sat in the holding pen. To his left and right were his brothers-in-arms. They were his family. They were all silent. As time passed, more of them became broken. As time passed, more of them were broken beneath their brother's hands, all for the amusement of Decepticon crowds. He couldn't stand the sight of his own hands, though he'd wiped them clean as best he could. He still believed that around the bends and joints, hidden from sight, were the lingering stains of processed energon and oil. He didn't need to look at them to know it, if he was honest with himself. Every time the green minibot moved his fingers, he could feel the grimy residue, the slight adhesion that spoke wordlessly of what had seeped into him, gumming the joints from the inside.

It was nearly show time again. He looked to his brothers, as they were for this match, at least. Both larger mechs, and ground models with treads. Tap-Out knew not to get attached. That past the gate, if he could convince himself, the faction symbol mattered little. If they were to leave with their lives… He cycled air. His spark flared in the grip of the fear that crept over him, and the gate slowly parted, sliding away with either side with a horrible mechanical screech. The minibot hoped he'd never grow numb to that fear.

The light from the arena poured through the widening crack till it bathed the three members of his team. His audial sensors picked up the hum of energy blades being ignited and then tossed out before them. Three blades glowed purple, trapped in the sands of the arena floor. Out of the habit that had started to form, Tap-Out lunged forward, securing a weapon for himself. The Decepticons did not always see fit to provide them all with a weapon. With the knife in hand, he looked across the arena to see three mechs also emerging from their holding pen, only one weapon shared among them. He couldn't bring himself to think about what the Cons were doing, what their true intentions were by the inequities they made the Autobots face each time they entered the arena.

The crowds cheered, and Tap-Out's fuel pump fluttered. They were not cheering for him, or his brothers, but for their eventual deaths. His hand tightened on the knife's handle as his teammates moved forward. A small arc of energy flared from the blade and danced across the minibot's knuckles. His shoulders squared off, and with a hard look he pressed forward to meet their challengers. It was do or die time, and he wasn't ready to surrender.

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Tap-Out fell to his knees, the knife slipping from his energon-coated hand and hitting the ground with a near-silent clatter amongst the riotous noise of the crowd. He didn't understand it. His arms shook. Falling forward, he caught himself, allowing his fingers to dig into the silicon sand of the arena floor. Again, he'd killed them. His optics flickered, as an anguished growl escaped his vocalizer. Energon bled sluggishly from his own shoulder where a fellow Autobot combatant had managed to bury a blade, at least temporarily. He shuddered at the quick reply that played behind his optics. The cabling in his neck squealed reflexively from the involuntary tightening the unwelcome memory caused. He'd slit the other mech's primary lines, sawing at them crudely, over and over until they'd been severed from one another.

A heavy mech landed on the patch of arena before the green minibot after dropping onto the ground from his jet gear. The sound of that one mech clapping seemed so loud in comparison to the rest of the world to Tap-Out. His hands clenched at the sand, making the particles slide through his fingers. The other's pedes came into his line of sight. Gutcruncher… the horned mech's growl deepened as the merchant of suffering, and the coordinator of this arena, loomed over him. "Good show, Mini, good show. Keep winning, and someday you might even realize you'd make a lousy excuse for a Decepticon. But, Decepticon or scrap, makes no difference to me." The larger mech reached down and dragged Tap-out up to kneel before him. "Wouldn't get much for your plating either way."

Blue optics met the orange of the Decepticon's, and he gritted his dental plating together in an attempt to remain silent. The larger mech's hand moved from his shoulder to decorate his helm with streaks of iridescent energon from his own wound. The markings started at the tip of his right horn and trailed downward, following the motion of the Action Master's gray hand. "Down on your knees, and nothing to say for once? I'm shocked." Although Gutcruncher's mask covered his lower face, it was clear to Tap-Out from the overly bright shine in the larger mech's optics that the other took humor in the situation, in his misery. The large gray hand tilted the minibot's face up with plans of turning it side to side in mock inspection but when he turned it one way and met resistance the plans had changed.

A snarl pulled up the edge of Tap-Out's upper lip as he stubbornly kept his helm turned to the left. He knew he stood little chance against his captor in his current shape. Another day, another time, another fight, and he would slaughter the Decepticon as he deserved, but he would not let the other taunt him with no reply. "An Autobot on his knees is still better than a two-cred scrap dealing 'Con."

The blow was swift. The impact caused the minibot's vision to falter, first blacking out completely only to reset moments later, leaving flickering lines running across the ruined feed. Tap-Out kept his helm turned fully to the left from where it had been pushed from the hit. A small series of groves were carved in the softer malleable metal of the smaller mech's facial plating. The corner of Tap-Out's mouth crept up slowly in a smirk.

Gutcruncher's hand roughly took hold of his chin and pulled the minibot's helm straight, tilting it up slightly to make sure the other mech felt their height difference. "As if you didn't have enough things to regret already… Don't worry, I'll make sure you remember this one."

The crowd had started to die down as mechs became occupied in settling bets and starting fights of their own. Only a few spectators' optics remained turned toward the Arena sands. Those who did soon alerted their neighbors, drawing their attention back to the scene. Gutcruncher had wrapped a hand around the victor's neck. The minibot jerked, trying to pull out of the hold only for it to tighten excruciatingly, crimping various energon supplies to his system. Warnings sprang up in his processor as his hands rose to scrape at the gray digits that still slowly tightened. His helm tilted further back to alleviate the tension on the hold, with hopes to slip fingers under the hand, but the Action Master pressed on, securing his hold with another clench.

Tap-Out's mouth fell open, letting a weak hitching gasp slip out. His optics flickered from the lack of energon. Aware that the image of Gutcruncher could be the last he processed, his optical shutters fell closed in protest of that idea. He didn't hear the interface panel retract, nor did he hear it lock with a click. A second hand took hold of the back of his helm and he was pulled forward. His helm collided with the larger mech's hip causing him to unshutter his optics in surprise. The Decepticon's spike was in front of his face, and in trying to pull back he only managed to tilt his helm. Much to Tap-Out's disgust, the pressurized spike rubbed against his chin. The lack of energon to his processor was about to drive him into stasis lock, and he knew that then the Decepticon would take what he wanted. He piteously pushed against the other mech with one hand, the other remaining at his neck.

It didn't take a scientist to conclude what the other mech's intentions were. The hand that held onto the back of his helm slid to the side in a deceptively gentle touch, and a thumb entered his mouth and situated itself at the hinge to his jaw, pressing it open. The crowd hollered and cheered. Catcalls directed at the Autobot were numerous, and their laughter was disorienting to him as it rose and fell, melding with the static that had begun crackling in his audials. It seemed that the entertainment was back on. Gutcruncher used his hold to pull the weakly struggling minibot's mouth onto his spike.

The horned Autobot choked, his intake suddenly assaulted by the entry. His processor swam and his visual cut out. Sucking in air through his chassis's vent, he struggled, and in one last ditch effort there really was only one thing to do. Jerking his helm, he managed to get the larger mech's thumb from his jaw hinge, and he bit down as hard as he could. The hand on his neck components tightened fiercely enough to snap a support strut as the Decepticon howled in pain.

He was pulled off the spike and tossed away, skidding across the sands of the arena. Tap-Out landed on his side, and the sudden return of energon to his processor allowed him to remain aware for long enough to hear the crowd's taunts shift, their laughter no longer directed at his own beaten form. He could taste processed energon from the wound he must have inflicted. The minibot smirked as his helm dropped into the silicon sands, his injuries finally forcing him into a countdown towards stasis lock. Words swelled in his processor as darkness began to envelop him, a strange triumph coloring the last thought that seemed to roll over his fading consciousness like cold oil.

_I'll never quit. Never._

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	2. Earthian Made Machines

Title/Prompt: Earthen Made Machines

Writer: Left_eye_better

Rating: T

Characters: Tap-Out, Tailgate, First Aid, ensemble

Summary: Tap-Out provides First Aid with a reasonable explanation for Tailgate's fixation, (and I'm a terrible person for the reason I made up.)

Prompt: Tap-Out/Tailgate: Too little, Too Late

Continuity: G1

Warning: Sad, Dark in places

Word Count: 2771

Beta'd by: unbeta'd

**Disclaimer**: _Transformers_ © Hasbro/Takara.

Note: Takes place obviously after 'Silicon Sand', and a bit before 'Local Flora.' Series timeline-wise it would fit in After the Construction of Autobot city, before Bee became Goldbug, and before the ascent of Rodimus.

It was during the short period of time he was on Earth he caught a glimpse of a mech that he'd thought long passed into the Matrix. Tap-Out had frozen and felt his cabling in his joints tense. If he didn't know better he could swear he heard the slight clatter of his own plating trembling. He was the only one they'd recovered. They told him he was the only one. His lips were parted and every time he tried to force them back together he failed to initialize his vocalizer to speak. The green minibot was simple stunned as if someone had nailed him over the helm with a large pipe, from experience he could honestly state the feeling was similar. It felt as though his processor had went on standby and the fellow horned minibot that had agreed to show him around the base attempted to rouse him from his stupor with little success.

A blue and white minibot was being pulled from his quarters. Small electronics seemed to scatter out of the packed room, spilling onto the floor about their pedes. He yelled and screamed at the two mechs pulling him from the room. He struggled but they pulled him back as what looked like an officer ranked mech started to wade into the appliances of obvious in their human design. "Don't take them! Don't take them from me!" The held minibot screeched. "Don't! Please, listen! I saved them!" White hands nearly clawed at the plating of heavy front liners that kept him at bay. His twisting, squirming form nearly slipping free only to be pulled back with a snarl from his captors.

"That's Tailgate." Bumblebee's hand rested on the bend of Tap-Out's arm. With a small bewildered chuckle the Volkswagen continued, "Keeps taking things from the humans… I think something might be wrong with him. Nice enough guy, though." He noticed that he hadn't gained the green minibot's attention back. Gently he tugged on the other's arm. "Come on let's finish the tour. They seem like they got things covered."

A growl rumbled through Tap-Out's chassis and he pulled free of the yellow bug's tentative hold and rushed forward toward the scene. He didn't care about the appliances, that lay horded in the room, or the mech potentially going in to catalogue them, the fighter wanted the minibot free. He had to talk with him. He had to see if it was the same mech from then, from the Pits. With a roar the green mech charged at the red and yellow full-sized mechs that had hold of the fellow minibot. In their surprise they let go of their capture in favor of defending themselves from the minibot's fury that seemed to rain down on them with much more force than what they would have expected.

The fight escalated, mainly from the addition of Bumblebee trying to pull the similar make from the brawl. Blows were exchanged, but the green minibot refused to withdraw. It was as if he hadn't noticed Tailgate's escape, and flight into the room to protect the "small ones" as he'd been muttering.

Eventually Tap-Out was secured by the red and yellow matching set. His vents furiously putting out heated air as his cheek was pressed into the floor. His body was still wound tight, but he knew better than to struggle and risk damaging his shoulders. The two Lamborghini builds pressed their weight on him, their own vents cycling air at a good clip. "Just what we need, Another crazy minibot." One of the two spoke above him, the other responded shortly after, "Hey, at least one has some spunk though, right?" A snicker followed.

Bumblebee picked himself up from the ground. His armor was marred by black, white, red, yellow and minimal amounts of green. He raised a hand to his face. "Kup," He went over to the doorway into the white minibot's room and saw the elderly Security Officer looking down at the shuddering mass of mech and earth machines.

"Yeah?" The teal and gray mech rubbed his chin, with a completive look on his face. It was obvious that he was missing something.

"Looks like that tour I was supposed to be given sort of had a detour." The horned helm was outline by the hall light that poured into the mainly dark room. The mountain of small devices on the floor shivered, and it was noticeable that Tailgate tried to pull more into his grasp curling around them as if to protect them from an attacker.

"Heard some scrapping out there, what happened?" Kup cycled air and shuttered his optics briefly before deciding to work his way out of the room. No matter what the Big Guy said this might just have to wait a couple breems if another situation came up. Moving to the door and joining the yellow mech he looked down at the captured green minibot. If took a moment for his recognition circuits to boot up but as soon as they did, he moved to shoo the front liner's from crushing the small mech. "Get off, 'im. Trust me you ain't helping matters by trying to cave-in his chassis with you heavy afts."

The twins looked between each other before releasing the faded teal mech as commanded. "Just so you know, he attacked us not the opposite way around." Sideswipe started checking out the damages the minibot had caused with a slightly impressed look while his vain counterpart grumbled darkly about the destruction of his paint job.

Kup bent and helped Tap-Out up from the floor. "Alright, I know ya had to have yer reasons, but I have to say that's really not going to roll around here. Or at least roll about as far as a lead weighted wheel." The minibot was looking right past him and into Tailgate's dimly lit room. Turning to look in there as well the older mech had to question. "Didn't know ya knew each other?" The half powered optics of the green mech caught the Security Officer's attention. "Hey," He shook the minibot's shoulder.

"He looked like that before he jumped the twins to get Tailgate free." Bumblebee chimed in standing on the other side of the unresponsive minibot. The faint smell of burnt wires and circuits emanating from the room made the yellow mech recoil and look into the cluttered quarters. "Uhm… I think Tailgate might be overheating."

"Oh Slaggit." The old mech cursed glancing into the room, before turning to Sideswipe. "Go get the 'Aid kid, tell him we got Tailgate going again, and that one of the arrivals needs a debug." His hand on Tap-Out's shoulder was pushed off rather gently as the red mech nodded and left.

The green horned mech moved forward into the room, working his way through the collection of appliances that deeply coated the floor. "Hey, shhhh," He moved to take a seat on the floor next to the twitching mass of Earthen made electronics. "shhhh, remember me?" His hands started to claw their way through the debris trying to reach the mech hidden in it.

Not all of the mech's he'd encountered stayed in the Pits. Some were taken elsewhere and filled other needs, but this was always after they were broke, after they had spilt the energon of their kind. They had been thrown together a few times. They had been in the same holding area. He had seen this mech and the more he uncovered the more he was certain he was identifying the other correctly.

His hand striped away more of the junk to show more of the minibot huddled beneath it. The smell of melted plastics and singed metal grew stronger. He moved on his knees to Tailgate's side wrapping an arm around him and pulling the other minibot's shoulder against his front. "Shhhh, no one's taking them from you. They're fine." His attempted to rest his hand on the others overheated helm in a soothing gesture only to have to pull it back as the heat nearly burned to touch.

Kup and Bumblebee watched curiously from the doorway. The elder's arm blocked the way keeping anyone from entering. A theory was starting to form in the Security Officer's processor and it was a theory that would require some rewrites on Tailgate's file. It was serving to explain a lot. For starters the mech's hang up on personal liberties, and slavery, above and beyond the standard Autobot fare.

The white and blue mech shivered, his vent hitching. The lack of their usage had probably spurred the overheating. His systems attempted to gasp for air but he couldn't seem to calm. Tap-Out cleared a spot near to them and managed to lay the overheating mech on it. Although it stung to do so, the green mech's hand stroked and petted the other's helm ignoring the heat that managed to transfer. His drive to take of the living pushed him to continue. "Shhhh, run your vents. Think about running your vents. Can't help them if you don't." The ferrocobalt magnet released its hold on the appliances that Tailgate had clutched to front letting his chest vents draw air.

First Aid and Sideswipe returned. They leaned into the small group gathered at the door. First Aid spoke quietly. "What's going on?"

"Short or the long?" Sunstreaker spoke up in reply first and from the narrowed visor that the Protectobot shot him he decided the short seemed more appropriate. "We were doing the standard clean out of 'Gate's room, and the new guy busted in. Tailgate got free, started his overheating thing, then Kup made us let go of him and I have a feeling they may know each other."

"At least it looks like the new arrival is calming him; I don't like sedating Tailgate if I don't have to." The young medic started to shoulder his way to the front of the growing crowd with a small medkit in hand. He approached the two mechs, and cleared a spot on the floor gently with his pede before kneeling across Tailgate's form from Tap-Out. He set the kit to the side of him, before introducing himself to the green minibot. The whirl of Tailgate's overtaxed ventilations was a favorable sound he had to speak over. "I'm First Aid, one of the medics here. Haven't had the chance to review your file. May I help?"

Tap-Out glanced to him, but went back to what he'd been doing since it seemed to be working. "Shhhh, it's alright. They are fine. They aren't slaves. You're fine. Shhhh…" The white mech's optics visor flickered breifly in recognition before going offline as system protecting recharge took over. Both the green minibot and the mech sat quietly. Tap-Out shuttered his optics, and ran fresh air through his own systems. "Make sure he didn't do any lasting damage… please." Unshuttering his optics he glanced up at First Aid then down to Tailgate. More light started filtering into the room as Kup started to usher mechs away.

The ambulance mech nodded and started attaching a portable scanner to the downed mech's systems. Setting the device on the mech's chest he reached over to take one of Tap-Out's hands to inspect it. They were damaged from the brawl. Minor sparked flew from the joints when they were forced to move quickly. First Aid's touches were careful to not cause pain. "It's surprising the different shapes hands of caring mechs come in though I do generally like to see them with less dents." The smaller mech nodded in an almost docile fashion.

Deciding it would be best probably to work where they were instead of attempting to move both the minibots to the medbay the red and white mech looked to the door and Kup. "Could you please turn on the lights, Sir?" The Security Officer's hand ran a path near the door and hit he command pad before the mech turned his back politely to the door as if he wasn't listening.

First Aid turned the hand he held over and with a tool that smoothly flipped out from his finger opened the palm panel to gain access to the pain sensors for the fingers. "You have tremors. Are you in need of fuel?" The mech shook his helm and the young medic frowned behind his mask. "Your optics are not to their proper brightness. You should probably fuel soon…" He turned his focus temporarily to the mech between them, where the new arrival's attention still lay. "You know… We go through this about once a month with him. We don't even know why he does it… He didn't seem to have this problem till he landed on Earth according to his file. If you could shed any light on the situation it'd probably help us a lot." He prodded at the switch for the sensors in Tap-Out's hand numbing the appendage before tenderly starting work. "I didn't catch your name either."

The minibot twitched when his hand suddenly lost feeling. "He… He was captured by the Decepticons with a group of younglings he was trying to protect. At first they separate them from him and he was thrown in the entertainment pits of Polyhex with the rest of us… but when the 'Cons found that they couldn't convert some of the younglings,"

He paused not sure if he wanted to continue. It was a medic he was speaking to. It was the medic most likely in charge of his fellow Pit survivor. Tap-Out steadied himself physically and mentally before continuing. At the door Kup shifted and crossed his arms uncomfortably. "They strung them up on posts before the matches and to get the crowds riled up they took him out and it took two mechs to hold the blaster in his hand and make his finger pull the trigger. They hauled him off after that… I could've sworn I saw him gray that day just from horror."

Looking up at First Aid he could've sworn that the younger mech looked like he was about to do something out of the anger his story provoked. Tap-Out couldn't be sure what and was surprised when the younger mech nodded solemnly seeming to accept the information given him with a wisdom far beyond most. "Your name?" The medic shut the panel on his palm, lowering that hand, and holding his now free hand for the green minibot to deposit the other one in.

Lifting his still damaged hand and placing it in the offered white hand Tap-Out gave the mech his name quietly. The Protectobot nodded and performed similar repairs to the hand. As he finished with the scanner chirped. Still holding the hand First Aid tilted his helm to look at the scrolling results. "So?" Tap-Out questioned, wanting the verdict on the fellow survivor.

"He'll be fine with rest and minimal amounts of stress. How do you believe his collecting of Earth appliance relates to his time where you described? I'd like to appropriately update his file… maybe I can figure out a solution from this." They were both looking back at the white and blue minibot, his collection of liberated machines scattered around him. Nervous, and tired lines were etched into the pliable metal of the mech's face even in his supposed rest.

"They're small. He's most likely a little rattled from what happened. I don't know how he got away from them. I was told I was the only one recovered from the fighting pits. He's saving them for the ones he couldn't… If I had to guess." It was a small act much too late, but much like his own need to defend those who could not defend themselves it was something to attempt to lessen the moral burden. "Are there no sparklings to guard? Maybe if you secure him in a place guarding a youngling he might drop this…" Tap-Out looked steady down at the mech between them.

"No sparklings here, very few mechs ones would consider younglings, and very few of those that need or want protection. I'll see what I can do." The red and white mech nodded, and he felt the shaking still going through Tap-Out's arm, traveling into his hand that was still held. "You still have tremors."

Tap-Out slowly vented air and shot a sad smile to the medic. "My hands always shake a little since back then."

First aid again nodded, his optical visor looking at his current patient's optics. "I'm sorry."

The green minibot's air intakes hitched in a barely noticeable way. "So am I."


End file.
